


Aliens Made Them Do It (no really)

by river_soul



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:11:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look," Sheppard started, carelessly dropping her tack vest to the floor and reaching for the zipper on her jumpsuit, "I told you not to drink the ceremonial wine. You never drink the ceremonial wine!"</p><p>"I was thirsty." Novak told him, pulling his shirt over his head. "I was thirsty, I didn't know and fuck," she breathed against his neck, "why do you have some many layers on?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aliens Made Them Do It (no really)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the peddler of crack (aka [](http://koalathebear.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://koalathebear.livejournal.com/)**koalathebear** ) because she gave me Bones.

"Look," Sheppard started, carelessly dropping her tack vest to the floor and reaching for the zipper on her jumpsuit, "I told you not to drink the ceremonial wine. You _never_ drink the ceremonial wine!"

"I was thirsty." Novak told him, pulling his shirt over his head. "I was thirsty, I didn't know and _fuck_ ," she breathed against his neck, "why do you have some many layers on?"

"Shut up," Sheppard said, pushing her down on the dirt floor of the hut and kissing her hungrily. God only knew where the rest of his team was or what they were doing. Sheppard only hoped they were smart enough not to drink the wine. This was supposed to be a simple mission, finish up the trade and let Novak look over the ZPM with McKay and go home.

Of course everything had gone to hell. He shouldn't have left Lindsay unattended, he shouldn't have accepted the drink she gave him and he most definitely shouldn't be trying to figure out how to one handedly take off her bra.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

\--

Lindsay woke a little before dawn, feeling warm and content. She yawned lazily; stretching leisurely as she slowly opened her eyes. She blinked in confusion at the unfamiliar Spartan surroundings of the thatched hut as she tried to remember how she’d gotten there. There was something about a mission and a ZPM. Lindsay was trying to remember the night before when something male and warm shifted behind her, mumbling in his sleep. She froze as he slung an arm over her hip and burrowed his head in her neck with a content sigh.

_Oh God._

She swallowed thickly, trying to calm the staccato beat of her heart and the heat in her chest. Her very _naked_ chest she realized with horror. She tried to think about last night, about where the hell she was and suddenly she remembered the wine, the thick honey nectar she’d been drinking last night. And Colonel Sheppard.

“Fuck,” she said softly and closed her eyes. All she had to do was slip out, find her clothes and just never, ever look Sheppard in the face again. He was a professional, they could pretend this hadn’t happened or god, maybe there was some kind of procedure for this kind of thing. She’d heard all kinds of stories from her time at the SGC.

Maybe he wouldn’t even _remember_ , she thought and felt her heart slow and the rising panic subsided. She could do this she thought with some confidence as she tried to shimmy out of his grasp.

“Mumph,” she heard from behind her and she felt his hand drop to her belly, calloused fingers flexing over the smooth, pale skin. When she tried to move away again his hand tightened around her, and when she twisted in his grasp she could see the well defined muscles in his tanned arm. She swallowed heavily. _This isn’t happening,_ she thought desperately as she felt his lips against her neck and his hand moving slowly between her legs. For a moment an unwanted memory from last surfaced and she remembered the way his fingers had-

“Colonel,” she barked out a little louder then she intended.

Behind her his entire body stiffened. He jerked his head away from her neck and his hand slid carefully away from her body. He cleared his throat and Lindsay shivered in the absence of his body heat. “Doctor,” he said slowly. There was a rustling sound behind her and after a few minutes she turned to look before she thought. He was barefoot and shirtless, buckling his pants when she looked up.

Mortified, she turned away.

“Your stuff is by the table,” he told her, watching her carefully gather the thin sheets around her. He studied her lazily, lips twitching upward briefly as she turned away, face hot as she hiccuped.

“Could you, uh?” she asked, making a vague motion with her hand for him to turn around. He followed her request silently, and it took Novak a minute of searching to find her underwear and she gave up on her bra as she pulled her shirt on and zipped up her jumpsuit quickly, aware that Sheppard was only a few feet away. She’d never been so conscious of him before, never had a reason to be she supposed and thought perhaps she understood why the other women on base fluttered nervously around him. She wondered if he’d slept with them too.

When Novak turned back around Sheppard was lacing up his boots and had both their tack vests lain out on the bed. Lindsay checked her hair in the small, crude mirror, twisting it into a bun as she tried to smooth down the fly-aways. She felt dirty and panicky when she caught Sheppard’s eye in the mirror. He was unreadable in the cold predawn light but his eyes followed her movement in the mirror. “Are you ok?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said with some embarrassment as a loud hiccup worked its way up her throat. She didn’t think she could even turn around and face him. “It was, um. _I’m_ sorry,” she said finally, remembering that she’d been the one to give him to wine, that she was the one to kiss him first in the heat of the firelight.

“Sorry,” he repeated her word quietly to himself, watched her squirm under his gaze and Lindsay knew it wasn’t an apology. He was thinking. “There was something in the wine,” he told her finally, tone careful. “I’ll get a sample of it, take it back to Beckett.” She couldn’t tell if he was angry at her or maybe just embarrassed. Reading men had never been a strong trait of hers and she supposed someone like John Sheppard would be particularly tricky.

“Ok.”

He stood behind her; hand resting on the butt of his P90, looking completely at ease with the situation. Novak turned away, concentrating on keeping the string of hiccups inside. When she finally turned around he was gone. Lindsay carefully slipped on the tack vest and sat down on the soft sheets, trying to compartmentalize what had just happened to her, to them.

She’d slept with John Sheppard, had sex with the man several times during the course of the evening and remembered enjoying ever minute of it. The details felt fuzzy in her mind but she could still recall his face, the feel of him inside her with perfect clarity. Beyond the sheer terror and lingering embarrassment she admitted to herself that it’d felt good.

“Jesus,” she said aloud to the empty room, head in her hands until McKay came looking for her an hour after sunrise, snippy and impatient that she wasn’t ready to go. McKay and the rest of the team gave no indication they knew anything had happened. Teyla was still distantly polite and Ronon failed to even look at her once. That was a small comfort but she could feel Sheppard behind her, his silent presence overwhelming on their walk back.

“Are you even listening to me?” McKay asked and Lindsay turned, suddenly thankful for him.

“You were describing your flawed plan for re-powering the star drives to me,” she said and was rewarded with the way his face turned a little red and he stumbled over his sarcastic reply. Before she knew it she was arguing with him over something trivial and stupid, the village far behind.

\--

  
It was a little after 3am, standard Atlantis time when John dropped by her lab. It was completely deserted; Hermiod left two hours ago to do whatever it was Asgards did and anyone else with any common sense was asleep. He slouched in her doorway, managing to look bored and a little bewildered at the same time. It was a charming effect, but the memory of his body, naked and warm, curled around her was enough to off put any feelings of nostalgia.

“Colonel,” she greeted politely. She’d practiced this part in her head.

“Doctor,” he said, sauntering further into her lab. The door closed behind him and with no wall to lean against he folded his arms across his chest. She started at his sidearm, wondered why he was here. She was pretty sure that look they’d shared in the mirror, back on the planet, had been the voiced equivalent of _let’s never talk about this again._

“About what happened,” Sheppard started.

_Apparently not_ Lindsay thought, drawing herself to a standing position.

“I think we can both admit that it-”

“-was awful I know,” she told him, busying herself with some wires on the tabletop. She _so_ didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“It shouldn’t have happened- Awful?” he asked, taking a step forward, making her realize _awful_ probably wasn’t the best word choice she could have come up with. Beyond the completely weirded out expression on his face he looked mildly offended.

“Not you!” she told him hurriedly. “You…you were great, I mean really great,” she told him, turning pink and god why was he just staring at her, letting her ramble on! “It’s been a while and that thing with your hand,” she started, horrified at the words tumbling out of her mouth. “You,” she tried before stopping herself. “I meant how it happened! The wine!”

Sheppard blinked, cleared his throat and succeeded in making her feel even more awkward which wasn’t something she thought was possible. For a second it looked like he wasn’t going to say anything, and Lindsay was ready to be pretty impressed with herself because she’d never seen _anyone_ succeed in putting _that_ look on Sheppard’s face.

“I spoke to Dr. Beckett and he said that wine was laced with pheromones. So you know…The natives, they…” he trailed off and made a vague gesture with his hand.

“Colonel? Are you trying to tell me that aliens made us do it?” she asked with disbelief.

“I-What?” he asked, too stunned to answer to her question when Hermiod seemed to appear out of nowhere, saving him the effort.

“Colonel, Dr. Novak,” Hermiod acknowledged dryly as he moved to his place behind the console, seemingly intent on the screen before him. John Sheppard, for the first and probably only time in his life, was happy to see the naked little grey alien. He was starting to think all parties involved might actually get out of this with some of their dignity intact when the Asgard unexpectedly spoke.

“I must admit my kind has never understood your fascination with the preposterous conception that we or any other species would be remotely interested in watching your highly inefficient mating rituals.”

Lindsay hiccupped loudly, face aflame. “How,” she started, her strangled tone cutting off the rest of her question.

“Your headsets have been on. You’ve been citywide,” he stated calmly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Also, new [tumblr](http://river-soul.tumblr.com/) friends are always welcome!


End file.
